


Harmony, Not Exactly

by Jade_Waters



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Violence, Mirage's POV, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Waters/pseuds/Jade_Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirage's loneliness leads to an unhealthy interest in Thundercracker & Skywarp - one he thinks is safe enough, until suddenly it's not.</p>
<p>I posted this once a long time ago in a different archive. Please enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmony, Not Exactly

Most of the time, I watch them because I’m on a mission. I hide carefully in shadows, invisible just in case the shadows are not enough, and I do my duty, intercepting radio transmissions and scrutinizing enemy activities. Most of the time.

But, sometimes, just every once in a while, I catch myself watching the Seekers in a way that doesn’t quite fit the call of duty.

And lately, on days like today when I’ve got nothing special to do, I find myself slipping off to find them even when I’m not supposed to be spying. I know they like to fly over the ocean between the Decepticon base and the beach, and so that is where I go. I sit on the sand or on a nearby cliff, and I watch Skywarp and Thundercracker fly in formation, practicing maneuvers in a way that looks more like play than military drills as they swoop through clouds, dive almost to the water, and then spiral around each other. And as I watch, I slowly forget about the war I never wanted to fight, about allegiances I don’t know why I made, and I lose myself in the sunlight glinting off wings.

Of all the Autobots, except Optimus Prime maybe, I suppose I know the Decepticons better than anyone. I’m the one who spends most of my time observing them when they don’t know anyone is watching. I listen to all of their personal conversations, sifting through hours and hours of mundane transmissions in hopes of finding useful information. Unlike the other Autobots, I know the Decepticons are not always warmongering monsters, though they do tend to be a bit more… colorful than the Autobots. Soundwave, for example, truly cares for his cassettes. I’ve seen him myself; he plays fetch with Ravage, and his optics brighten (I’d even go so far as to say they brighten _warmly_ ) at Rumble’s jokes. In the end, this whole bloody war is only going on because they just see things a little differently than the Autobots. Maybe even just because Megatron sees things differently. At first, I’d tried, like the others, to reduce the Decepticons to sparkless machines incapable of deeper emotions or higher thought processes. But I knew better, and I couldn’t fool myself. And I couldn’t hate them.

Of all the Decepticons, I enjoy watching Skywarp and Thundercracker the most. I listen to Thundercracker’s indecision, his eternal worries that sometimes echo my own misgivings. I watch Skywarp’s pranks unfold, his perpetual self-assurance balancing out with Thundercracker’s caution perfectly. They are beautiful, especially together, made for each other. They are strong, graceful transformers who, in the end, are more interested in their own friendship than in the Decepticon Cause, no matter what they may say in front of Megatron. I watch them fly together. Sometimes Skywarp rattles on about nothing to his quiet partner, his voice becoming a relaxing background noise. Other times, rarer times, they fly in companionable silence. They rarely need to talk about what they are actually doing – even when practicing more dangerous maneuvers, it’s as if they just know where the other is. They have… harmony.

Sometimes, as I’m watching them, I wish that I could be as confident, as courageous as they are in battle. They never hide, never back down. They sweep over the battlefield as if they own it. Most of the time, they _do_ own it. Yet they aren’t insane with ambition like Starscream. Though, even Starscream’s not as bad as he seems, once you get him away from Megatron. In fact, when I catch him flying with his wing mates, the Air Commander is by far the most graceful and beautiful, and always completely in sync with the others. I envy him, all three of them.

Certainly, the Autobots are nice enough. They’re friendly to me, just like they are to everyone else. But I just… don’t fit in. I’m not brave, not strong. I hide, even in broad daylight, even when I’m not invisible. So many of the others have someone that they just connect with. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Prowl and Jazz, Ratchet and Ironhide. By the Pit, even Bumblebee has Spike. But beyond that, the others are just so good at being… together. In a group. Socializing. I’ve always been the wall flower. Most of the time, I don’t mind being alone. I like the peace and quiet of my own processors, unbothered by the troubles of other bots.

But sometimes, “being alone” becomes “being lonely.” That’s when I slip off to watch the jets, because I am afraid of how alone I feel, afraid that I’ll turn invisible and get stuck and no one will even notice I’m gone. And when I look at the Seekers, when I watch them flying together, I wish to Primus I were just a little more like them.

*

So there I was on the beach again, invisible, watching the two Seekers, intercepting their communications, looking for new maneuvers, daydreaming about being as sleekly powerful as they are. Lost in my reveries, it took me longer than it should have to notice that communications – usually fairly constant, if trivial – between the two jets had ceased. I was listening to dead air. Radio silence. Snapping fully awake, I scrambled to my feet and looked up at where the Seekers had been. I found only Thundercracker, looping lazily over the water. I scanned the skies, but saw no one else. So I watched him, waiting for Skywarp to come back from wherever he’d gone, all the while suppressing the voice in the back of my head that was evermore insistently shouting, “Slag, slag, slag! You lost him!”

With so much focus on where Skywarp might be, I failed to notice that Thundercracker was drifting slowly toward me. His loop, in fact, turned just above me every few astro-seconds, like a comet around a sun. Fear crept into my circuits. Something was wrong. I started moving away from the beach, trying to tell myself that nobody could see me, that it was alright. _But they’ve never done this before_ , said the voice that I kept trying to shut up. I even glanced down to be sure that yes, I was still invisible. As I glanced back up, Thundercracker dove down at me, firing all around. At that, the voice won out and I panicked. I ran, practically tripping over my own feet trying to get off the beach as sand exploded around me. I kept moving even after the jet had pulled up, away, booming over my head. Just as I reached the edge of the sand, Skywarp appeared in front of me. He warped in so close that I had to back pedal to avoid crashing into the Decepticon. I landed on my aft, one arm behind me, one raised in defense. Surprised, terrified, I let out a yelp, and in response the jet only snickered. I heard Thundercracker transform and land on the beach behind me. The voice reminded me that I was so, _so_ slagged.

But I was still invisible. How did they..? “How can you…?” I asked, too shocked to think clearly and keep my mouth shut.

“TC, I thought you said he liked us,” Skywarp said to his friend, ignoring me.

“Well, he certainly likes watching us. Does it all the time,” Thundercracker replied, the very image of nonchalant.

“Hm,” grunted Skywarp. “Maybe he just needs to get to know us a little better.” Skywarp and Thundercracker raised their weapons in my general direction. “Show yourself, Autobot spy, or we’ll blast you to scrap right here and now.”

Everything I’d ever learned screamed at me not to drop my invisibility. Every voice in my head insisted I stay hidden. _They don’t know exactly where you are_ , a slightly less-panicked voice reasoned, _only approximately_. The light bulb finally went off in my head, so to speak: radar. _Slag_. The jets had radar! My invisibility only bends visible light waves… it doesn’t do slag about radio waves. They knew. They knew every single fragging time I’d ever watched them. And they’d picked today to tell me so. They picked out my approximate location with their radar, and then they’d chased me on the beach so I’d leave foot prints. It’d been a trick and I’d fallen for it as miserably as a cadet. All I had to do was stay still and they wouldn’t know where I was.

But Skywarp’s voice hadn’t been the arrogant screech of Starscream, nor the wire-chilling growl of Megatron. No, Skywarp’s voice, even the part about blasting me, had been smooth, calm, coaxing. And it was much more persuasive than any of the voices in my head. So, after a moment, my invisibility shimmered, and disappeared, showing me on the ground, face up, ready to scramble away from Skywarp.

But Skywarp didn’t start blasting right away. Neither did Thundercracker. Instead, Skywarp knelt on one knee between my legs, one hand holding a gun while the other draped across his knee, smug as you please. Thundercracker knelt behind me. “Disarm him, TC,” Skywarp said with a strange smile playing across his face, one that reminded me of Sideswipe, only darker.

“What do you want, Decepticon?” I tried to spit the question at him, but my voice trembled in spite of my efforts. Honestly, I’m amazed my vocalizer worked at all. I was in shock – not only had they found me, but I wasn’t dead yet. This was not going the way I’d thought it would go.

“Well, sweet spark, I didn’t want anything except to fly around up there, til I noticed you on my scanners. Again. Making quite a habit of watching us, aren’t you? Little too often to be regular recon missions. We’re not exactly doing anything interesting. At least, nothing Prime would be interested in.”

“But, apparently, we’re rather interesting to you, Mirage,” Thundercracker said as he finished disarming me, his hands ghosting over my armor. I remained on the very edge of panic, barely able to grasp what they were saying, suggesting.

Their voices were too smooth, too soft. Something was going on that my mind was refusing to catch. I tried to think of a response, any response, but all I found was, “No.”

“No?” Skywarp repeated, leaning forward slightly, “No, you haven’t been watching us? Or no, we’re not interesting? You were just watching the waves.” Thundercracker snickered. Skywarp raised his gun to place the tip of it at my throat. I pulled back instinctively, only to run into Thundercracker’s chest plate.

“Just the waves,” I stammered out, feeling like such a coward.

“Oh, good. If it was just the waves, then you’ve got no particular use for this,” and with that I cried out in pain as Thundercracker _removed_ my invisibility device from my shoulder. I’d been scared before, but as I watched Thundercracker hand over the sparking box to Skywarp, and as Skywarp crushed it in his hand, it sunk in that I was really, _really_ slagged. In a very slow, very agonizing way.

Skywarp laughed at my wide, scared optics and leaned forward, one arm in the sand beside my core. “I think he knows he’s in trouble now.”

“But I don’t think he knows what’s coming.”

“Me neither,” Skywarp practically growled, his smug grin mere inches from my face.

Then, suddenly, Skywarp had both hands on one of my arms, and his boosters flared to life, kicking up a small sandstorm. Thundercracker grabbed my other arm and followed suit, until we were about a thousand meters above the ocean. I had screamed when they took off, but now I was silent, my frame shaking as the two Decepticons held me. “What should we do now, Skywarp?” Thundercracker asked, in a tone that said he clearly knew what to do now, and was only asking to increase my anxiety.

“We could drop him.”

Before the sentence was even out of Skywarp’s mouth, I was falling through the air and screaming again. The fall would not likely be fatal, but it would hurt like the Pit, and with the two Seekers still around, fatality would soon follow. If I was lucky.

But I never hit the water. Skywarp appeared below me, moving up fast. His shoulder collided with my midsection, arms wrapping around my waist. Metal dented, and I was pretty sure it was all mine as I felt the sickening wrench of my descent reversed. I was flying up again, dropped again, caught by Thundercracker, moving sideways, looping backwards too fast to even fall. After that I lost track of what direction I was moving, lost track of which blue was the sky and which was the sea. Each impact was hard, painful. Then, the two Seekers had my legs, held me upside down, and flew just above the water. I couldn’t tell if I was under water or just lost in the jets’ spray. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear anything but the roar of jet engines.

They dropped me, at last, into the surf, a pile of disoriented limbs. I thought perhaps my torture was ended and this would be my death, but as a wave rolled over me, I realized I was on the beach again, wet sand infiltrating my joints. Slowly, I dragged myself to my hands and knees, coughing salt water out of my intakes, wondering where my captors had gone. The jets did not leave me for long. Just as I started to rise to my wobbling knees, they were on me again, plowing me into the sand, pinning me face up. Not that I had the strength to fight them anyway. “What now?” I all but whimpered.

“Our new playmate didn’t seem to like flying much, did he TC?”

“No, he wasn’t very good at it. Too bad, he’s such a nice shade of blue, too.”

“Yeah, could almost get used to it.” Skywarp practically purred into my audio, “So, Autobot, why were you watching us?”

“Mission. Recon,” I said, still half-drowned and definitely not liking anywhere this might possibly be going.

“Recon my aft,” said Thundercracker.

“It’s a nice aft, too, isn’t it, Mirage?” Skywarp said.

And then I knew exactly where this was going, all hopes of denial aside, and I _really_ didn’t like it. I tried to squirm, to pull away, to fight, but it was far too late for that. “Please,” I said as the jets forced me to remain still.

“Please what?”

“Let me go.”

The Seekers laughed in my face. When they were finished, Skywarp lowered his voice, again placing his mouth right beside my audio, and said, “I don’t think that’s what you really want, Mirage.”

And Primus help me, I couldn’t suppress the small shiver that went through my body then.

“Now, let’s try again,” Skywarp said as one of Thundercracker’s hands ran along the sensitive underside of my arm. “Why were you watching us?”

I started to say “Recon” again but as the “Re” slipped out of my mouth, Thundercracker’s fingers slipped between the armor between my arm and shoulder, brushing rarely used sensory wires. I gasped and jerked away in surprise, only to have my shoulder slammed painfully back into the ground. “The truth, Autobot.” I wasn’t even sure which one – maybe it’d been both – said it, but this time, I confessed, voice barely registering above a whisper, “I… enjoy watching you.”

“Told ya, Skywarp!”

“So you were right, for once,” Skywarp said to Thundercracker with a smirk before turning back to me. “Tell us what you like watching so much, sweet spark,” he purred as his own hand slipped down along my side armor, tracing seams, slipping into the sore dents he had caused not moments ago. The two Decepticons were now laying on their sides with me between them, each with a hand exploring my body.

Fear still coursed through my circuits, but I was becoming giddy with the unexpected switch from pain to pleasure. I didn’t know if truth or lies would be better. In fact, as Skywarp dipped his fingers into a small pool of mech fluid that had collected in a dent below the middle of my chest and raised them, dripping, to his mouth, I wasn’t sure I cared, as long as they didn’t stop. The reasonable part of my processor reminded me that they were just playing with me, that I would likely still wind up deactivated, and that to enjoy this was probably treason. But as Skywarp sucked my mech fluid off his fingers, his wicked optics never leaving mine, I felt my air intakes stall, and the rest of my processor screamed that this just felt too _good_. Reason be damned. I’d been so lonely, too lonely. I couldn’t remember how long it’d been since anyone had even wanted to play… So when the jets commanded again, “Tell us,” I answered, “You’re beautiful. You-!” a groan rose out of me and my optics shuttered briefly as Skywarp slipped his fingers between the armor plating of my thigh and groin, running his fingers over cables even Ratchet probably hadn’t touched in eons. At the same time, Thundercracker moved his mouth to my neck. Air intakes working over time, I tried to answer again, “You have such – ah! – h-harmony up there! And you’re so unafraid!”

Skywarp ran his fingers between my plates, pulling my legs apart ever so slightly for better access, his own mouth working at the sensitive spot right below my audios. “I have to admit,” the black jet said, “hearing an Autobot call me beautiful is enough to give me an ego bigger than Starscream’s.” He bit down on the circuits between my neck and shoulder, moaned in pleasure, letting the vibrations travel through his captive. I, in turn, shuddered again.

Thundercracker took a moment to snort, “He called us both beautiful, not just you, attention whore.”

“You know he likes me better,” Skywarp grinned.

“Whatever,” Thundercracker said, rolling his optics before returning his attention my neck.

Skywarp, in turn, took my chin in his hand, forcing me to look him dead in the optics. I was so busy staring at the deadly playfulness there that I almost missed it when he asked, “And what do you want, Mirage?” I loved the way he said my name, was as lost in his voice as in the Seekers’ touches.

Just at that moment though, Thundercracker wrapped his fingers around a few wires that, apparently, were hyper-sensitized, as I arched into the touch, optics glitching for a few seconds. When my back was in the sand again, I answered, optics still off, “Please.”

Again, the jets asked, “Please what?”

My optics flickered back on, begging, “Please… I want you.”

Skywarp’s smile is devilish at the best of times. The one he gave me at that moment, though, well, even Thundercracker shuddered in anticipation. The jets descended on me, without mercy, practically pulling off my armor to brush at wires and cables, touching in so many places that I was on the very edge of sensory overload within moments, barely holding back. My optics had switched back off and Skywarp whispered almost continuously in my ear, though I no longer heard the words. The two Decepticons simultaneously initiated an interface, sending waves of information and energy between us. I returned the pulses, creating a loop. The stream of energy flowing between all three of us was quickly building, building until I hit overload, arching against the jets still pinning me even as they hit their own overloads. Shaking and sparking, I at last shorted out and fell limp in temporary recharge.

We lay still for several minutes. I woke first, slipping out from under the jets quickly and quietly. As amazing as that had been, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be around when the Seekers woke up. Just letting me go didn’t seem to be something Decepticons would do, whether they’d just fragged me or not. I managed to slip away from them and was running as fast as I could without making too much noise. I reached sand dunes and paused, turned. Skywarp lay, chin resting in his hands, watching me leave. He smiled a hazy, post-overload smile, and I smiled back, hesitant. I turned away, and did my best to disappear.


End file.
